


Strawberry Tarte

by Taeunnie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, For the sake of all things good, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeunnie/pseuds/Taeunnie
Summary: France x reader smut; You're trying to bake but something else is preferred ;)
Relationships: France (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 12





	Strawberry Tarte

We sat and talked around the dark wooden island in the center of the kitchen as soft music played in the background. It was me, Francis, and our second bottle of Bordeaux. It was the most luxurious dinner I’ve ever had, but that was nearly two and a half hours ago and I was starting to feel peckish. Maybe for something sweet? We laughed together as he was telling me a story about the English man he works with. “A pain in the ass” as he mentioned it. I took another sip of the dry red wine then sighed as I stared dreamily into the French man’s blue, almost violet, eyes. A smile snuck onto my face and he noticed it as well.

“What is it, ma belle?”

I quickly snapped out of the trance I was pulled into and fully focused on the man in front of me. I sighed and finished what was left of the wine in my glass before speaking to him.

“I was just wondering if you could bake just as well as you can cook.”

He laughed aloud and grabbed his wine glass, swirling the contents within. He looked at me with a slightly tilted head and a smirk on his lips.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A strawberry tart?”

He hummed contently and took a sip of his wine.

“I could make that for you, as long as you promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

He placed the glass back on the table and stood up, reaching his hand across the table to me.

“Be my sous chef”

I giggled childishly but took his hand nonetheless. It seems that I will be getting the dessert that I asked for. He led me from the island to the white marble counters that lined half of the kitchen. I stood near the right side of the oven and Francis handed me an apron. I was going to tie it on but I was immediately lost in his fluid motions. The way he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves a third of the way up his arm which exposed a black clip he kept on his left wrist. He removed it with his teeth and held it in his mouth as he tied the apron around his waist behind his back. He finally took the clip out of his mouth and fixed his hair into a messy ponytail. He stopped half way in when he saw me mesmerized by him. He chuckled softly and finished putting his hair in a ponytail. 

“Would you like me to help you?”

I nodded and passed the apron to him. He grabbed it and draped it around my waist, tying behind my back. I turned to him excited and ready to mix whatever he asked me to. He grabbed all the ingredients needed to make the tart and laid them orderly on the counter in front of us.

“Do you know how to bake, ma cherie?”

“I’ve had a little practice here and there.”

“Then I will trust you to make the cream.”

It was two hours after we had started and both pastries were glazed with a light, glossy sugar finish. They looked absolutely delectable. The hard work we did paid off in looks but did it pay in taste?

“Well, shall we try it?”

We each took a dessert fork and took a small piece of the sweet tart and opened my mouth to eat. Before I could, Francis held my chin and turned my face towards him, feeding me the dessert on his fork. The sweet tart was crisp yet the cream melted in my mouth. It was so good that the shock I felt before immediately melted away.

“Now me.”

I fed him the dessert on my fork and he hummed exuberantly at the delectable taste. I smiled fondly at him as I examined his face. It was hard to tell before but now I noticed the streak of flour across his right cheek. I cupped his face in my hand and wiped the flour off with my thumb which made his face burn a bright red. I giggled softly and was quickly taken aback with a peck to my lips. My cheeks burned with a fiery blush, but I felt brave. I kissed him and wrapped my arms around his neck as I pushed my body closer against his. He was inviting and snaked his arms around my hips. He licked my bottom lip for permission and I gladly gave it to him, opening my mouth as we kissed and he slowly inched his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues tangled and swirled around each other as the passion between us increased. We broke from the kiss and panted heavily as our eyes searched each other.

“Ma cherie…”

“Francis…”

“Perhaps there is an even sweeter dessert to be made. Will you make it with me?”

He grabbed my hand and led me back to the far side of the island, away from the wine glasses we left behind. He sat me onto the table and leaned in to give me another heated kiss. This time, however, he spent less time on my lips, eager to explore the rest of my body. He trailed heated kisses slowly down my neck and his hands were busy groping my breast. Lucky for him, this dress didn’t need a bra. I moaned softly from the tingling sensation of goosebumps growing on my skin where he kissed me softly as he aimed for the base of my neck. He suckled on my collar bone until a small bruise formed. He released my skin with a small ‘pop’ and slowly licked the bruise he formed as he looked up at me. It made my heart race looking down at his lustful eyes and I just couldn’t wait for him anymore. I slid the spaghetti straps of my dress off my shoulders and let the top half slide off, exposing my bare breasts. He hummed and observed me hungrily, but he was patient. He was patient, but his eyes weren’t and I could tell. I smirked teasingly and proceeded to untie the apron around my waist and drop the sugar dusted cloth onto the floor, releasing the rest of my dress. I stare back at him with anticipation almost like a challenge to the French man. He took it and began to kiss my body again from the bruise that he left on my neck, slowly pushing me until my back hit the cool, wooden table. He grabbed and massaged one of my breasts as he kissed down the other, taking my nipple into his mouth. He tongued and teethed on my swollen bud earning sweet, desperate moans from my needy lips. He teased me for only a moment before moving down lower to my upper abdomen. He couldn’t be bothered with the extra effort to take off all of my clothes, but that for me was what added to the thrill. He leaned over me and pecked my lips once more before standing up again. He untied the apron he had around his waist and almost completely unbuttoned his shirt with the exception of three or four buttons. He removed my blue laced underwear and slid them off, only leaving them to hang on one ankle. He spread my legs wide enough for him to squeeze between them and wrapped them around his neck. He licked up my wet lips teasingly slow and took extra care to pleasure my throbbing clit. Jolts of pleasure swam through my body as I arched my back off the table releasing broken moans from the depths of my throat. Through the suckling I could feel the motions his tongue made on the center of my clit moving up and down, left and right, small circles and figure eights. It felt as though he were painting a picture on such a small canvas but the feeling of it almost made me cry. I was close. The pitch of my moans changed automatically but Francis knew exactly what it meant. He removed himself from my needy core and opened my legs once again, standing between them. He wrapped my legs around his hips then unzipped his pants, his swollen cock rested firmly in his hand as he positioned himself against my entrance. With no time being wasted, he slid inside of me and I tightened my legs around him as I moaned loudly into the air. My back arched off the table as Francis began his steady and lustful strokes, rocking me back and forth. I was close but he was just getting started. I could only go on for so long before a fire began to burn in the pit of my stomach. My walls tightened around his cock and I was beginning to feel weak. I was overtaken by the waves of pleasure. I screamed in ecstasy and I squirted on his cock. I was finished. I panted heavily with my eyes closed. Even in the darkness I could still see stars. But he wasn’t done. I heard a deep, dark chuckle from the French man still inside of me. I looked at him through half-lidded eyes and saw him there looking down at my given form. 

“A dessert so sweet, I can’t help but have another taste.”  
He removed the black clip in his hair letting the blond locks fall messily into place, some even covering one eye. He leaned over me and began his lustful strokes again, this time with more vigor. I was still sensitive from my first orgasm but I allowed Francis to continue. The smooth yet demanding strokes gave me a new sense of pleasure that made me feel like I was on cloud nine. He was getting close. His cock throbbing inside me until finally he came. It wasn't long until I came on him again. He removed himself from my wet, fluttering lips and kissed me sweetly as he laid on top of me. 

“How was that, ma belle?”

“Delicious.”

I giggled softly. We smiled at each other though hazey eyes before we kissed again.

**Author's Note:**

> Ma Belle: my beauty; beautiful  
> Ma Cherie: my darling  
> Sous chef: assistant chef


End file.
